


So You Had  Bad Day

by lesbianrobinhood



Category: Women’s Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort, writing as a coping mechanism!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-10-17 06:35:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20616602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbianrobinhood/pseuds/lesbianrobinhood
Summary: Tobin deals with the loss with a little help from a phone call.





	So You Had  Bad Day

**Author's Note:**

> Tobin’s quote in this is made up but the feelings are real because I HURT.

It hurts. Every loss stings but this one hurts. She can feel it like an actual wound in her chest, pulsing in time with her heartbeats, can feel the pain spreading from her chest to her fingers. She rinses off at the stadium but she has another shower when she gets back to her apartment. It settles a little as the hot water hits her back, but it doesn’t chase away the images. AD, sitting in the locker room, ducking her head into her cubby. Emily meeting her eyes from the sidelines, guilt in every shadow of her face. Lindsey, frustrated and upset and kicking the trash can in the tunnel as they walked out. 

She steps out of the shower just as her phone starts to ring and she knows that ringtone. Knows it better than she knows anything else. 

She doesn’t even say anything when she picks up. 

“Hi, baby.” 

Just the sound of Christen’s voice brings the tightness in her chest back. She falls backwards onto the bed, and if she lays her head against the pillow and closes her eyes and holds the phone to her ear, she can listen to her familiar breathing and pretend that she’s not in another state.

In that moment she desperately wants Christen to be home. She knows why she’s not - the trip, and then she has practice tomorrow - but she wants to be able to curl over, tuck her head into her shoulder; she wants to be able to grumble that Christen always steals her clothes to sleep. She wants to feel her warmth and smell that familiar mix of her laundry detergent and Christen’s shampoo and go to sleep and feel better in the morning. 

“The NCAA championship,” Christen says after a few minutes of comfortable silence. After Tobin no longer feels like she’s going to cry if Chris says anything. “You remember it?” 

“Your equalizer got called offsides,” Tobin murmurs. 

“Do you remember what you said to the student reporter afterwards?” 

She doesn’t, so she stays silent. She mostly remembers looking across the field and seeing the prettiest girl she’s ever laid eyes on. Everything else about that game is a blur. 

“You said soccer is 90% skill and 10% fate, and that it doesn’t matter how much skill you put into the game that day if fate is against you you’ll lose. That the Cardinals were a great team, and that they played fantastically, and that we were very evenly matched, and fate just tipped to you guys that day.” 

The words spark something in her brain. She does remember saying that, vaguely, the way you remember the colors of your shoes during your first game. Important but blurry.

“It doesn’t-“ she starts. 

“Did you play your best game tonight? Not your best ever, but the best game you could tonight? The most effort you could put in?” 

Tobin is silent for a long moment, letting the question sink into her bones, and the answer lifts the heaviness away. “Yes.” 

“Then it was fate against you. You can’t change fate.” 

You can’t, she knows. She knew it the moment she saw the pretty Stanford forward at National Team camp, strutting forward and shaking her hand and joking about being on the same team this time. And she knows it now. 

“Thanks,” she says - stronger, lighter, more confidently. And then softer and warmer and so, so sincere she thinks the phone can’t possibly pick up how much she means them. “I love you.” 

“I love you too. Next time make Hinkle cry, though.” 

Tobin laughs and everything is okay again.

**Author's Note:**

> Therapy writing complete. Maybe now my brain will let me work on Preath the Bachelor AU.


End file.
